


The Mists Of Aquae Sextiae

by Dean-Bangs-Cas-In-The-Impala (Maknatuna)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Bottom Castiel, Castiel Has Powers, Castiel is a witch's son, Dean is a BAMF warrior, Drama, Familiars, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Top Dean Winchester, Warrior Dean, Witch Castiel, Wulfric is freaking awesome and I love him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-08-21 15:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16579598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maknatuna/pseuds/Dean-Bangs-Cas-In-The-Impala
Summary: Castiel is the only son of a witch who has a very rare gift and before dying tragically she passes the gift to her son.  Well, Castiel never would have thought that because of this he would end up with a very handsome Teuton warrior.  Funny thing? The sexy barbarian is 900 years old and should’ve been long dead if not for Castiel’s unique gift.





	1. Foreword

Hi guys!

I feel like it’s been hundred years since you’ve read any new fics from me.  So many things have happened that I really didn’t have time for writing. I left my old depressing job, I got engaged and I feel like I’m happy the way I am at the moment. Finally things have slowed down and it seems that I will have enough time to offer you something fresh and new ;)

As you see I am back with another multi chapter historical Destiel fic for you. It will most probably have 30 chapters (or more. I don't know yet).

Now that being said,  I have noticed that there is a dangerously low amount of feedback from readers lately which is very alarming. 

I don’t think people realize how important feedback is to writers.  Some of the readers struggle, not knowing what to say. The thing is that even short phrases like “Cool”, “I liked it”, “Good job” makes a huge difference.  It boosts the author’s motivation to update more frequently + you get lot more new fics.

As I already mentioned, my story will have at least 30 chapters and without your comments and kudos I will not be able to write it. Feedback is essential for us. It is important to let us know that we are not sweating blood, putting our heart and soul into our stories for nothing!

If you have troubles with writing a comment, not knowing what to say I decided to make it easier and I will be asking some questions at the end of chapters, which should help. 

I really hope that you will support me with your comments and that we will have a great time in the process of writing this story.

Thank you and see you soon! 

 


	2. Chapter 2

As you know I really love to use historical events in my stories and this is not the exception.  The battle in this chapter really took place between Teutons and the Roman army in 102 BC. 

All I ask is please support me with your comments (a word or two means a lot!!!),  kudos,  bookmarks etc because without it I quickly lose motivation and will not update this fic.

Thank you and enjoy!

The beautiful collage done by amazing **[mariesondetre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariesondetre/pseuds/mariesondetre)  **Thank you, my amazing friend <3

 

                                                            ****

 

**Part I - Nunquam Non Paratus**

 

**The Spring of 102 BC, Aquae Sextiae**  

The air is chilly and the heat from bonfires is not enough to defeat the cold that gnaws at the bones. The field they have settled for the night is vast, surrounded by a thick, deep forest, swarming with various and predatory creatures, that are no less  dangerous than Roman arrows.

There is a young warrior sitting right at the border of the field, where the forest line begins, away from his drunk friends, away from their loud and terrifying songs, away from all the noise and tension reigning at the Teutons’ camp.

The green eyes are studying the metal under the moonlight, while the skilful fingers are sharpening the lethal blade that is thirsty for the blood of its enemies.

There are a few beads of sweat on the young man’s forehead, the result of his diligent work.  Suddenly he stops, raising his head and squinting in the darkness. His hand grips the handle of the sword tightly, ready to hack the intruder in half if necessary. Though his tensed composure relaxes after a few seconds.

“I know you’re there,” the young man huffs. “I know you too well. Come out, Wulfric.”

There is a quiet snort, as if someone or something got disappointed when their plans of a surprise attack got crashed.

Something rustles, a twig or two breaks and a massive, dark grey creature with a thick fur steps out of the darkness. It’s a big, no, enormous sized wolf. The eyes of the beast are blazing like burning, melted amber.

“Wulfric,” the young warrior chuckles. “Don’t be upset. It is not my fault that I can hear your almost silent footsteps. I can’t help it. I have a good hearing.”

The wolf approaches the young man, sniffing his hands and then licks them.  After a quiet chuckle and a pet on his head Wulfric gets bolder and begins to lick the young warrior’s face in earnest, causing a loud laughter this time.

“Dear gods, what are you doing, you silly puppy? Stop it!” the young man throws his head back, trying to avoid all the slobber from his companion but Wulfric is not that easy to convince.

“Alright you win,” he raises his hands in defeat and waits for the wolf to finish washing and cleaning his face. He knows that’s all he can do. Wrestling with the giant beast will only drain energy from him and Wulfric will still win, as he wouldn’t  really be able to injure the wolf. How would he, when it was him who had saved the poor beast in the first place...

 

_**The Winter of  109 BC, Jutland**_

_He had to confess that hunting in such snowstorm was a really horrible thought but then it’s not like he had any idea about the drastic change in weather. There had been no signs. The sky had been clear, with no trace of clouds and then suddenly it had darkened, turning grey just like a pair wings of a mourning dove._

_The winter had been severe this year. The harvest had not been enough to feed so many mouths. There was famine raging everywhere and something had to be done to fight it. And that is exactly what his father Teutobod, the leader of Teutons, a mighty tribe that had been terrorizing the whole Roman empire, was trying to do by discussing the worrisome matter with his fearsome warriors._

_He had chosen his favorite bow and arrows and gone hunting, hoping for a deer or at least a big fox, which would not be an easy task. Wild animals were starving to, constantly roaming, exploring new territories and leaving the old ones, in search of food.  The ground had been  slumbering under a thick layer of snow for a few months already, making it difficult for them to search for sustenance.  Many had fled the forest as they’d been hunted by the locals._

_The young man had been wandering around for hours, trying to find a trace of any animal but the luck hadn’t been on his side that day._

_He was about to turn around and return home when he’d heard a low, pitiful whining, combined with miserable yelping, like of a small animal in distress._

_At first the young Teuton had thought that maybe it was fox in a trap but soon after he’d realized that the sounds were different, not the kind a said animal  would make._

_After fifty steps and passing by four bushes he had stopped, staring at the ground in front of him._

_A tiny grey ball of fluff was sitting in the snow, staring at the sky with its head raised high and crying its little heart out. A wolf pup and most probably an orphaned one._

_He was a skillful warrior despite his young age, intimidating his rivals with raw power and strength, master of sword, axe or any other weapon, who could kill an enemy without batting an eye but seeing such a helpless creature melted his heart._

_“Hey,” the young man had stepped forward towards the pup. “What are you doing here all alone?”_

_The pup had stopped crying after hearing the human and directed its attention to the man before him._

_“Where is your mother?” dark green eyes studied the surroundings, wary that the mother wolf may still be around._

_The pup had made a loud yelp and stepped forward towards its possible rescuer, its pudgy paws sinking in the snow. The pup had almost reached the man when it stumbled and tripped over its legs, landing on its rear, utterly confusing the tiny beast._

_It had been the best thing that had happened so far that day and the young man couldn’t help it when he burst into loud laughter. A few tears of joy had rolled down his cheeks, frost quickly licking it._

_“Come here,” the young man bent down, picking up the pup, which had stared back at him with its yellow eyes. “You’re coming with me. I shall call you Wulfric.”_

_That’s how Wulfric , an orphaned wolf pup had been found in freezing cold in the woods of Jutland and become the loyal family member of the king of the Teutons..._

 

“Dean!” a loud but insisting shout startles the young man. His memories scatter around like butterflies. His fingers stop combing through the fur of Wulfric. The wolf whines when pleasant sensations stop but his master soothes him, promising to continue soon.

“There you are. I’ve been searching for you for hours.”  A very tall young man with a long brown hair reprimands him.

“Why, Sam? Can’t I have some time for myself?” Dean grumbles at his younger brother for it’s him.

“Yes but father –“

“What about father?” Dean cuts him off. “Is he well?”

“Yes, yes father is well. He sent me to find you. He wants you to be present at the council. There are rumors that we may be attacking the Romans tomorrow at sunrise.”

Dean whistles. He had not expected that it would happen so soon.  Of course, sooner or later the battle would take place but he was thinking that maybe they would have a few more days for thorough planning and strategies.

“Alright, I’m coming,” the young man sighs, standing up and sheathes his sword. 

“Wulfric,” he turns to his wolf, before walking away with his brother.  “I will be back. Don’t go anywhere. Stay here and wait for me.”

Wulfric huffs and lays down, his head resting on his front paws. 

The wolf’s amber eyes follow the brothers as they disappear into the darkness.

As soon as both men vanish in the depth of the camp Wulfric raises his head, staring at the deathly pale full moon.

He knows.  He knows and it’s tearing him apart, the rotten feeling  that he can not change what’s already written in the book of fate.  He wishes he could talk and warn the foolish humans. But gods had sent him to this world only as a beast.  He is just a wolf, unable to talk. There’s only one thing he can do right now. And that’s exactly what he does.

Wulfric jumps up, staring in the distance at the hill beyond which the Roman legions are lurking.

His fur stands on its end, eyes full of hatred and burning fire. The mouth of the beast opens in a ferocious snarl, white fangs flashing under the moonlight.

Wulfric throws his head back and howls.    

 

 

To be continued

 

**Questions:**

 

**1\. How did you like Dean's and Wulfric's interaction?**

**2\. What do you think will happen?**

 

**Let me know in your comments!**


	3. Chapter 3

Ok, so here’s the next chapter.

Some details:  Teutobod , the chieftain of Teutons really existed but it’s unclear if he had any heirs. As my story is historical FANTASY let’s pretend that Dean and Sam were his sons.

 

                                                                                                   

**Chapter 3**

The way to the tent where his father is holding a meeting with his warriors seems endless, though one could say it’s just a few hundred steps.

Dean cannot shake off a feeling,  a sick, suffocating one, like a muddy water filling up one’s lungs, devouring its victim’s life.  

“You do not look well,” Sam glances at his older brother.  It does not matter that he’s the younger one, he always acts like a mother hen, clucking and worrying about her chicks.

“Nonsense,” Dean waves him off, though his lie does not sound too convincing.

“You are an awful lier, you know that, don’t you? What’s bothering you?” Sam insists.

Dean sighs.  Sam will not leave him alone till he gets satisfying answer, which doesn’t leave him with much options.

“It’s just that-“  he rubs his forehead. “If the rumors are true, I think we will be making a huge mistake.”

“Why do you think so?” Sam stops right in front of the tent, loud voices already pouring from the inside.

Before Dean answers, the curtain of the tent moves aside, letting out a very tall, broad shouldered man. He looks intimidating, radiating power and enormous might.   His eyes, hooded under thick brown eyebrows, flash thunder but as soon as they land on the two young men, the  gaze instantly softens.

“My sons,” his deep, rumbling voice greets the brothers.

“Father,”  the young warriors bow their heads respectfully.

“Come in, we have just started.” Teutobod steps aside, inviting his sons inside the tent. 

They all walk in, throwing quick glances at the present warriors.  There are t tree of them, looking all gloomy and thoughtful.  They all look like slumbering giants in the dim lights of the torches.

“I suppose we can start our discussion,” Teutobod sits down, gesturing to his sons to do the same.

“Father,” Dean turns to their chieftain.  “Are the rumors true?”

“Depends what rumors you mean . If you’re talking about how Donar saw a three-headed bull with gold balls, no, it is not true. He had drunk too much ale to tell difference between a cat and a horse.” Teutobod chuckles , combing his long beard with his fingers.

The tent shakes with roaring laughter. Even Dean chuckles a bit.  The only person not laughing is Donar himself.

“Yes, laugh as much as you want. And when that damn bull comes and devours your soul while you’re sleeping do not blame me for not warning you,” grumbles the man, shifting on his seat uncomfortably.

“Relax, brother,” Teutobod grins at him. “We have a bigger problem on our hands than a monstrous beast.”

Everybody in the tent grunts their agreement, their moods turning sour as soon as their chieftain reminds them of their enemies.

“As you already know we’re thinking of attacking the Romans at sunrise.  But before making the final decision I want to hear your thoughts and  opinions. Only after this we shall decide what to do.” Teutobod rests his thick forearms on the table. He looks tired and Dean’s heart aches seeing his father so exhausted. It’s not easy to lead such a huge army and be responsible for their lives.

 “Adalric, share your thoughts with us,” Teutobod asks a red haired man, wearing a cloak made of bear’s fur.

“I support the idea of attacking them at sunrise.  We should be quick and effective.  Our warriors are getting idler with each passing day, which will not do us any good.” Adalric’s speech is always brief but clever.

“Noted,” Teutobod nods.  “Who is next?”

Donar coughs, showing that he has some things to say too. 

“I agree with Adalric,” he says. “We are wasting our time by sitting here and doing nothing.  The Romans could send messengers to Rome and ask for reinforcements. This is why we need to devastate them before more legions come to their aid.”

“I want to add that the Romans have not seen much of our people.  Look at us and then look at them. We are giants compared to their size,” Uwe,  a fine haired,  blue-eyed man adds.  

“That is true,” Teutobod nods once again.  “We Northern people intimidate them with our size only.”

“And before they get accustomed to our looks and lose their sense of fear , we must use it to our advantage.” Uwe  adds, looking at his brothers in arms for support.  And they do not disappoint.

“Very well, I know your thoughts,” Teutobod speaks.  “Now, I would like to hear what my sons think.”

Dean frowns. He does not like what he’s heard so far. Now he understands what that sinking feeling was. He hopes that he can change their minds, as it seems that they have already decided what to do.

“I think we will be making a fatal mistake  if we attack them now,” he says loud enough and all the murmurs in the tent quiet down.

“What makes you think that, my son?” Teutobod stares at him curiously.  He knows that Dean is wise despite his young age.

“We do not have a good strategy, a good plan,” Dean raises his voice. “Just because we do not want to  waste our time does not mean we should attack then unprepared. This is not a game. This is war and a lot of people will die. It will take only one mistake to get us all killed!”

“Get us all killed?” Donar snorts. “Have you seen our army? We outnumber them. One Teuton warrior can easily kill at least three Roman soldiers.“

“Quantity does not always mean quality,” Dean stares him in the eyes, not backing off.

“Father, I think we should really reconsider the attack plan,” Sam cuts in, sensing his brother’s distress.  “Why can’t we wait a few more days, before we come up with a detailed strategy?”

Teutobod heaves a long sigh.  He’s trapped between a fire and a flood and no matter which one he chooses, he won’t win.

After a long pause the chieftain of Teutons stands up, going to the corner of his tent and retrieves a round clay pot with voting stones in it, bringing it to the table where the rest of the warriors sit.

“ We shall vote whether we should attack tomorrow or not.” Teutobod sets the pot on the table.  “You know what to do.”

Each man takes  two stones out of the pot – white and black.  The white stone stands for ‘yes’, while black means ‘no’.

“What if we get a tie?” Sam inquires, looking at his father.

“Then we summon the seer and he chooses the deciding stone.   May the Gods lead us to the victory. Let me see your  answers,” Teutobod addresses his warriors, including his sons.

Adalric is the first who puts his stone on the table’s surface. It’s white, which is not surprising.

Donar is next and just like his friend he adds his white stone on the table.

“Let me guess, your stone is not different either,” Dean snarks , staring at Uwe, who simply shrugs, revealing his decision.

Of course the stone is white!

“So far we have three positive answers.  What do you think?” Teutobod asks his sons. “Dean, what have you decided?”

“You already know my answer, father,” Dean’s fist slams on the table.    

The first black stone shines amongst the white ones.  It looks like a deer ambushed by hunters, knowing that it may have no chance of survival but still faces its fate bravely.

“Sam?” Teutobod urges his younger son.  “Show us.”

“I’m sorry, father,” Sam smiles awkwardly, adding his black stone beside his brother’s.

“Very well,” Teutobod hums.  “It seems that you chose me to have the final say.”

The chieftain of Teutons closes his eyes, breathing heavily.  The rest of the warriors sink in to dead silence. They all realize how hard it is and do not mind that their leader is taking some time to clear up his mind before making the final decision which could be fatal for all of them.

After a long, awkward pause Teutobod finally stirs, opening his eyes. 

“I prayed. I hope the Gods listened and  gave me the correct answer.” His hand presses to the table and after a few seconds that seem to stretch forever unclenches his fist, revealing his stone.

The stone which is white.

 

To be continued...

 

**Please let me know your thoughts about this story.**

**To make it easier for you:**

  1. **Whose opinion did you like?**
  2. **Do you think Teutobod made a right choice?**
  3. **What do you think will happen?**



 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original image credit: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/478648266641414547/

This chapter was hard to write. Describing battle scenes are never easy, plus all the feels. You’ll see what I mean ;)

Be warned, extreme violence in this chapter. And my god, I’m not ashamed to admit it I cried so much while writing the last part of the chapter. 

 

**Chapter 4**

Gaius Marius, a Roman general and statesman, favored by the Roman republic and gods themselves is looking at the legions under his command.  They are well hidden behind a big hill that is separating them from a countless horde of barbarians that have come to conquer the lands that do not belong to them.

The Roman consul knows that he must encourage the army, give them strength and inspiration to defeat the terrifying force consisting of two combined Germanic tribes Teutons and Ambrones who have  begun shouting their  battle cries and chants, clanging their swords and axes against their shields.

Gaius knows that the battle will not be easy and short. There will be a bloodbath and thousands will perish, but he must prevent the barbarians from entering Rome or it will be the end of the city.

“My brothers and nobble citizens of Rome,” Marius begins, addressing the troops. “We have come this far by our bravery and love of our homeland.  Right now we are a few steps away from the danger that wants to take our land, annihilate our families, kill our fathers and mothers, defile  our wives, sisters and daughters, slay our offspring. And we are the only ones, the last hope of Rome who can stop this from happening.  I cannot promise that all of us will make it home but I can promise that your names shall be forever remembered as the saviors of Rome.  So, let us awaken the righteous rage and bravery  in our hearts and pour it down on our enemies.  For Rome! For victory!” Gaius raises his gladius, shouting the last words triumphantly. The uproar caused by his flaming speech  is deafening and the legioners cannot contain their fervent desire to clash with their enemies to end their lives right there and then.

Gaius throws one last look at his army, at the faces of men who are ready to die for their land and families. The Roman consul hums quietly to himself, satisfied by what he sees and gives the command to advance.

                                                                                                   

It’s decided that the Ambrones, the allies of Teutons  will attack the Romans first.  They hadn’t hesitated to join Teutobod in his battle against Gaius Marius and his legions in their hope of better future and fertile lands.

Teutobod, Dean and Sam are looking at their allies that run towards the Romans with furious shouts and frightening grimaces on their war painted faces. 

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Teutobod states.  “The Romans do not have many soldiers this time.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, father,” Dean frowns.  “It could be a trap.”

“You worry too much, my son,” the king of Teutons chuckles, squeezing his older son’s shoulder.    “We shall attack as soon as Dromir blows the horn. We shall prevail.”

“I hope so.” Dean grumbles, his fingers clenching and unclenching around his sword’s handle. He briefly glances at Sam, who’s observing the battlefield intently.  Secretly neither him nor Sam like the idea of marching to Rome, they would’ve preferred staying in Jutland and try to change their peoples’ lives for  the better than go against the Roman republic and its army.  But they couldn’t refuse and leave their father facing the enemy alone, without his sons by his side. And that’s how they find themselves at the battlefield, watching their allies Ambrones go against the legions of the Roman consul Gaius Marius.

                                                                                                

Dromir’s horn never sounds.  The clashing of Ambrones and the Ligures, the allies of the Romans is merciless.  Both parties slay and slaughter their opponents left and right. The ground is slick with spilled blood and steams, reeking of death. 

Soon after the Roman legions advance and finish off whatever’s left of Ambrones’ army consisting of thirty thousand  warriors.  Only a couple of hundred manage to escape the battlefield , running back towards their camp but here their own wives, sisters and daughters await them with bloodcurdling screams and battle axes in their hands, calling them cowards for running away.

Ashamed of their act Ambrones turn around and attack the Romans once again but this time all their women are fighting alongside with them,  mutilating the Romans with unbelievable strength , enviable courage and meeting their demise without batting an eye.

 Seeing the annihilation of his allies Teutobod is forced to call retreat for the day.  They cannot bring their dead brothers in arms back to life, there’s nothing they can do other than go back to their camp and wait.

“They will pay dearly,” Teutobod snarls, his eyes full of blood and fury. “For our each fallen brother  Rome shall pay a high price.”

Feeling helpless is the worst and that’s how Dean feels. He wants to scream at the skies and smash something and he would probably do so, if not Sam’s comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Dean, we need to go and think where the mistake was made.”

That helps a little and Dean walks away together with his father and brother.  But he knows that the battle is not over yet and that maybe the worst still lies ahead.

There are no further attacks during the night. Both parties lie low, licking their wounds and injured pride, awaiting for the morning light.

                                                                                                      

It’s early morning when Gaius orders the cavalry to attack. Horses rush forward with wild neighing and frothing mouths, stomping the ground with their hooves.

Panic  and confusion spreads quickly through unprepared Teutons as they hurriedly grab their weapons.  They try to avoid the cavalry by running up the hill but they’re met with the rain of arrows  and javelins.

In the mass chaos  Dean loses the sight of his father and Sam.  He’s trying to find them but the Romans are advancing, chasing them down the hill.

His sword takes the life of his fifth opponent when he notices something  and his heart skips a beat.   Gaius’ second in command Claudius Marcellus is leading a rear attack with his three thousand warriors.

“It’s a trap!” Dean bellows, barely managing to block a strike from a young Roman soldier and quickly cutting his throat open with his axe. 

But soon after he finds himself ambushed by three men.  Dean quickly deals with one of them, finding the weakest spot in his armor, landing a fatal blow but two are still alive and one of them manages to wound him in the left side. 

Dean staggers, slowing down for a second and it almost costs him his life. One of the Romans raises his sword ready to strike but he never makes it as there’s a ferocious snarl and flash of white fangs,  as a giant grey mass leaps at the poor man ripping out his trachea.  Wulfric’s snout covered in blood turns to the remaining alive Roman soldier and  the beast steps towards him with a guttural growl.

The man’s eyes widen in fear at the sight of the wolf and its clear intention and he starts to retreat slowly, that soon turns into running. But he never goes too far as Dean’s axe smashes right into his neck, half decapitating the victim.  

“Wulfric,” Dean gasps, kneeling beside the beast and kissing his forehead.  “You need to get out of here.  It’s not safe. Go, hide in the woods.”

The wolf looks at his master with his glinting yellow eyes and bumps his head against his face. 

And Dean knows that he’s not going anywhere. That Wulfric has made a decision to die at his side that day.

The battle goes on for hours, till the dusk creeps upon them.  Clanking of metal, screams and cries of the wounded still rip through the chilly air until the final joyous  and earth shaking shout sounds at the field:

“Roma victor!”

The Romans have fully annihilated the Teutons and Ambrones as around hundred thousands of them perish in the massacre.  Gaius Marius, the savior of Rome will return to the majestic  city with triumph and honor, earning eternal glory and love of its citizens.  His name shall be remembered by generations.

As if ashamed of what she has witnessed, the goddess of the night sends a thick curtain of heavy mist to hide the blood-soaked battlefield from her view.

                                                                                                    

Dean cannot breathe as there is a burning pain in his throat and lungs.  Every time he coughs he spits blood.  Numerous wounds and cuts cover his body and they are all bleeding nonstop. His broken shield and shattered sword lie near and they’re  not of any use anymore.

So this is how it all ends? Dying alone, away from his family.  He still does not know what has happened to Sam or his father and probably will never find out.

There is a slight movement to his right and Dean has to squint to see through the darkness.  

“Who’s here?” Dean croaks. His fingers try to reach the broken sword, but he’s too weak.

There is a loud, labored  breathing and slowly, with a great effort Wulfric emerges from the darkness.

The wolf’s grey fur is scarlet red and Dean can’t say whether it’s Romans’ or the beast’s itself. Probably both. Three arrows are protruding from Wulfric’s body and he looks tired.  He has served Dean and his family lovingly and for so long and the time has come for him to rest.

There is a heavy, bitter lump in Dean’s throat seeing Wulfric in such state and he can’t help it when a single tear rolls down his face.

“You fool. Why didn’t you go when I told you so?”

Wulfric just snorts, approaching his master and lying down beside him. His warm tongue caresses  Dean’s face one more time  and then the wolf puts his head on the young man’s chest.

Dean’s numb fingers brush through the wolf’s fur as he awaits for the messengers of death, Wotan’s ravens,  announcing his arrival.

In less than an hour the mist starts to disperse and in his delirium Dean notices a figure in a hooded cloak walking towards him  through the battlefield.

The stranger stops, looking down at Dean and his loyal wolf silently. He looks unreal,  his clothes are shimmering under the pale moonlight.

The last thing Dean sees before everything sinks into darkness is a long blue cord the stranger is holding.

And then comes the silence.  

**End of part I**

 

 

I really tried my best to make this chapter epic. I hope I didn’t fail.

**So, do you like what I've written so far? Please let me know in your comments.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> image credit: http://xinature.com/leaves-waterlilies-bath-painting-artwork-pond-willow-tree-background-pictures/

**Part II – In The Shadows of Willow Trees**

**Chapter 5**

**Eastleigh, Hampshire, the summer of 802 AD**

 

The smell of a freshly baked meat pie wafts through the air, escaping from cracks and holes of a small wooden hut which is sunk deep in a grove of willow trees.

Today is a very special day.  Her only son has turned six years old and she wants to surprise him with his favorite meal and a toy, which she’s made herself.  Being a single mother is not easy. She’s still young and very beautiful and men should be singing love songs at her doorsteps but on the contrary, they avoid and fear her, knowing her skills and reputation.  Witches are not favored in the village by locals. That’s why Mildred, the mistress of a forlorn looking hut, has been living alone with her son Castiel for the last six years.

“Castiel, darling wake up,” she bends down to kiss her boy’s cheek.  Her long and smooth raven black hair hangs heavy above the child’s face, tickling it slightly.

“Mommy,” Castiel mumbles and shifts. “I want to sleep.”

“No, light of my life, you need to wake up,” Mildred’s fingers caress his cheek.  “I have a surprise for you.”

Instantly the boy opens his eyes, rubbing at them and sitting up in his small bed.  His baby blues look at the woman questioningly.

“Surprise?” he asks naively.  But then he smells it.  His eyes fill up with joy and Castiel squeals:

“A meat pie!”

“Of course, dear,” Mildred laughs and hugs her son.  “It’s your birthday today and I baked you one. Now, get up and wash your hands and face.”

Castiel jumps out of bed, feeling happy and runs outside to wash his hands and face with cold water from a bucket.  He loves meat pies and his mother bakes the best ones. Too bad that they can’t have it everyday.

When the boy goes back inside the hut Mildred embraces him in a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, my dearest. May you be blessed and protected by the spirits of this grove.”

They sit down at the small table. Mildred pours milk into Castiel’s mug and places a big, juicy slice of the meat pie on his plate.

“Mommy, do you know what I was dreaming about before you woke me up?” Castiel keeps chattering, while stuffing his mouth.

“No, sweetheart. Do you want to tell mommy about your dream?”  Mildred puts a smaller slice on her plate.

“I was lost and walking. I heard a lot of voices but I didn’t see people. And everything was white and I could not see anything.  I think I was in clouds. No, I remembered.  I was walking through the mist.” Castiel explains, swinging his feet and munching on the pie.

Mildred frowns. Castiel’s dream doesn’t sound like an ordinary one but it’s difficult to decipher it yet. She will need more details to understand what her son has encountered in the realm of dreams.  She will have to ask him about the dream later. It’s not urgent at the moment. 

A loud cawing draws her attention and a second later a big black raven flies into the hut from a small open window. It jumps down on the table between the plates.

“Offa!” Castiel exclaims excited, reaching out and petting the bird. The raven doesn’t object, making a small, satisfied sounds in its throat.

“Well, hello dear,”Mildred greets her familiar.  “I suppose you are hungry?”

The bird croaks, giving her a small nod. That draws a small laughter from Castiel.

“He’s so clever, mommy,” he pets the bird, removing a small twig from his wing.

“Yes, darling. Offa is indeed very wise. You know that he helps me, right?” Mildred puts bread crumbs and shredded pieces of meat on a small plate, offering if to her familiar.

“Yes, I know. I like him.” Castiel nods.  “Will I have a familiar too?”

Mildred smiles and turns to her son.  “Of course, dear.  They will find you when the time comes.”

Castiel finishes his milk and pie and stands up.  He grabs the empty plates, wanting to take them outside for washing when Mildred stops him.

“No, darling, leave them. It’s your birthday, you must enjoy yourself today. I’ll wash them myself.”

“Mommy, can I go and play with other children?” Castiel asks suddenly. There’s a sadness in his voice which breaks his mother’s heart.  Mildred knows that they’re not liked by locals but Castiel is innocent, he has not done anything wrong, just like his mother. But people are stubborn and can’t be convinced easily.   

“Of course,” Mildred caresses her son’s head. “But be careful and I expect you to be home before the sun starts to go down.”

“Thank you, mommy!” Castiel shrieks happily, hugging his mother.  “I promise I will not be late.”

“Good boy.” Mildred hums. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have a gift for you.”

“A gift?” Castiel’s eyes widen.

“Yes.  Wait here.” The woman scurries to the corner where her bed is and pulls out something from under the pillow. 

“I hope you like your birthday gift.” She hands Castiel a wooden horse.  It’s a small toy, carved from a chestnut tree and painted in red. The horse has a white mark on its forehead, making it more appealing.

“Its so beautiful! Thank you, mommy!” Castiel hugs the toy to his chest with one hand. His other arm wraps around Mildred’s waist, as the boy presses to her firmly.

“Enjoy yourself, darling.” she kisses her son’s head before the child leaves the hut. 

With a sigh Mildred sits down at the table again. She can’t help but worry about her son. Sometimes the burden she has to carry alone gets unbearable. Oh, how she wishes that  Castiel’s father hadn’t turned out a coward and ran away as soon as he’d learned that she had become pregnant. But then again, had he stayed, what would Castiel learn from such a weak man?  Probably nothing good.

“Offa,” she picks up her familiar, placing the bird in her lap.  “I am so worried about his fate.”

The raven croaks softly, rubbing his head against Mildred’s fingers. 

“Promise me, that if something happens to me you will stay and protect my son.” She turns the bird to face her.

Offa lets out a loud croak, flapping his wings. That’s all Mildred wants to hear.

“Thank you. Thank you my dearest friend.” She hugs the raven, caressing his smooth feathers. Offa presses his head against her cheek and closes his eyes.  For the time being everything seems to be fine.

* * *

Castiel hears children’s shouts and laughter even before he climbs up the hill. At this time they always gather at the foot of this hill, to play hide and seek or any other entertaining games.

Castiel clutches the wooden horse tightly to his chest, hoping that the children will accept him and that he can play with them too. Maybe they will even like his horse?

There are five children, chasing each other and not paying any attention to Castiel who stands on the hill, looking at them, holding his breath.

The tallest and the oldest boy from the group, called Alastair turns around, noticing Castiel standing all alone and smirks:

“Hey, would you look at that? The freak is here.”

His words hang ominously in the air as a five pair of eyes stare at the frightened small boy on the top of the hill.

 

To be continued...

 

 **So, do you like baby Cas and his mom? Let me know down below in your comments.**  

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning:  this chapter contains some violence in the beginning.**

**Chapter 6**

Castiel feels his small heart beat rapidly against his rib-cage. He does not understand why these children are looking at him with looks full of loathing and such anger that could melt a stone. 

“Get the freak!” Alastair shouts and sprints forward, leading the small group of screaming boys.

Castiel’s fear only worsens and for a moment he simply falls into silent stupor, looking at the quickly approaching children with terror in his wide open eyes.

Before he moves Alastair’s fist hits him in the nose, sending him flying on to the ground.  The boy thuds in the dust with a startled shout of pain, clutching his mother’s gift to his chest.  Blood starts dripping from his broken nose, mixed with tears.

“Why did you come here? Everybody hates you and your mother. We do not want you near us!” Alastair shouts at him while other boys are kicking and spitting at the fallen child.

“We did not do anything bad,” Castiel wails, tring to protect his head from another kick.  “I just wanted to play.”

“Well, guess what? We don’t play with freaks!” Alastair laughs loud and menacingly. “Isn’t that so, boys?”

“Yes! We hate freaks like you!” the children scream in morbid joy, bouncing around Castiel like hyenas ready to attack a wounded lion.

“Oh, what is that you are holding?” Alastair stops suddenly, squinting at the sobbing boy. “Eew, what is that ugly thing?” he grabs the toy, snatching it out of Castiel’s hands.

“No!” Castiel shrieks. “Please give it back! It’s my birthday gift.”

“Aaw, how sweet!” Alastair smirks. “Birthday gift you say? And you want it back?”

Castiel gulps, and nods miserably. 

“Please give it back to me.”

“Of course.” Alastair’s grin grows wider and it sends chills down Castiel’s spine. The toy hits the ground with a loud sound and Alastair’s foot stomps it a few times.  

“NO!!!” Castiel’s scream does not have any effect on his tormentors, as they keep laughing and taunting him.

“Heh, look at this crybaby!”

“Go cry to your mommy!”

“What a freak!”

Castiel grabs his horse, that is missing one front leg, right ear and half of its tail. His sobs resume as he holds the toy to his chest.

“Get the hell out of here before I change my mind and break more than your nose and your ugly toy!” Alastair bends down and hisses into Castiel’s face, spitting venom and hatred with every word.

Castiel jumps up and begins to run. His ears ring and heart tries to jump out of his chest but he does not stop. He knows he must keep running if he wants to live!  He stumbles and almost falls a few times but he does not care. He pays no attention  even when stones thrown by those hellspawns hit him in the back. The tears of reject are far bitter than those of physical pain. 

With a blurred vision, bloody face and broken toy in his hands the little boy keeps running with all his might towards his only shelter.

* * *

Mildred almost screams when she sees her son in a horrible state: Castiel’s face is smeared with tears and blood, his clothes are ripped and dirty and he’s clutching the half broken horse in his small trembling hands.

“Castiel, darling what has happened to you?” Mildred sounds hysterical, running to his son and embracing him in a tight hug.

Castiel begins to wail, wrapping his arms around the woman’s neck. His small body is shaking with violent tremors from the recent stress and horror.

“Mommy, why do they hate us?” he sobs brokenly. “We did not do anything bad. Why do they call me a freak?”

Mildred swallows a lump in her throat, unshed tears stinging her eyes.  So that’s what happened! Castiel had a very unpleasant encounter with locals.

“Sweetheart, do you want to tell your mommy what exactly happened?” She asks gently, wiping tears and dried blood from her son’s face.

“I wanted to play with other children but when they saw me they started to call me a freak and then beat me up. They broke my toy too.” Castiel looks at the horse mournfully.

“Oh, darling,” Mildred hugs him again. She does not know how to comfort him. What can she say? That they are just children and things will get better when they grow up? She knows that it’s not true. Things will only get worse with time. That’s the bitter truth.

“I just want to have friends to play with,” Castiel whispers, sniffling and looking down at his feet. 

Mildred closes her eyes. She’s fighting an all consuming rage in her soul not to get up and cast a mighty spell on those vicious children, making them suffer from incurable illness. Moments like this are very hard for her.  She has sworn to follow the path of light but when she sees her only child suffer  like this, it makes her forget about the oath.

A soft but  loud croaking wakes her up from bitter thoughts. Offa is sensing her hesitation and has decided to remind about the sacred oath.

“Thank you,” Mildred smiles at her familiar. “Though sometimes I am not sure whether I should keep it.”

After a brief interaction with the raven she turns to her son, caressing his dark curls lovingly:

“Castiel, darling I promise you that you will find a very dear friend soon enough.  A friend who will stay with you till the end of your days and follows you in afterlife too.”

“Really?” Castiel looks up at his mom, with a glimpse f hope in his blue eyes. “You mean a familiar?”

Mildred smiles.  Despite his small age her son is very clever.  Got it from his mother for sure!

“Yes, dear. A familiar. I have one and you will have your own too. You would like to have one, don’t you?”

The boy nods his agreement.  

“Will they play with me?”  

“Of course,” Mildred laughs softly. “They will play with you and protect you when necessary.  And you must protect them back, love and care about them.  Your paths are bound forever.”

“I promise I will love them with all my heart,” Castiel says in a small voice.  “I will be their friend and protect them.  When will they come, mommy?”

“When the time comes, darling.  Your familiar will come, following your heart’s call when the time is right.”

“You promise?” the boy puts his small hand into his mother’s open palm.

“I  promise.” Mildred touches her son’s cheek.  How she wishes she could speed up time so Castiel’s familiar would show up.

“Alright.”  Castiel whispers quietly, looking down at his broken horse. 

“Let’s wash your face and then we can start making a new horse for you,” Mildred offers, trying to cheer him up a little.                                                                                         

“No, I don’t want a new horse. I will keep him.  I still love him though he’s missing parts.  I don’t think he’s ugly.” Castiel shakes his head.  “He is still beautiful.”

Mildred’s smile is sad.  Castiel is very sensitive and perceives what surrounds him differently.  This world is too scary and threatening for his delicate nature and she feels afraid for his well being.

“You know what?” She turns to her child. “Why don’t you go play at the firefly pond? I will give you some bread and you can feed fish too.  They will be happy to see you.”

Castiel’s face lights up. He loves that place! It’s so beautiful and green. And at night thousands of fireflies wake up, fluttering above the water and illuminating the area, making it look magical.  

“Yes, I would like to go there.”

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up first.” Mildred leads him to the bucket of water. 

After he’s washed his face and put on a new shirt,  Castiel takes a small basket with some bread, cheese and an apple, so he can feed fish and have something to eat for himself too.

After kissing and accompanying her son through the door, Mildred turns to Offa.

“Please keep an eye on him and protect if anything happens.”

The raven croons softly, as if assuring the woman that everything will be alright and flies after Castiel.

* * *

Castiel reaches the pond quickly as it’s near  their hut and sits down under the shade of the oldest willow tree.  It’s always so peaceful here.  The only noises one can hear are of crickets and birds chirping. 

The boy opens his basket and takes out the bread. He begins to throw crumbs in to the water, watching the circles on the surface.

“Come out, I have food for you.” He giggles when the first fish appears, grabbing the biggest crumb greedily. 

“It’s alright, please don’t fight. I have enough for all of you.” Castiel assures fish, as they start fighting over the crumbs.

He throws the last piece of bread into the water and grabs the apple, ready to bite it when he hears something.

There is a small squeaky sound, coming from the bushes at his left.  It sounds like there is a small animal trapped in there, begging for help.

The sound gets louder and Castiel puts the apple back into the basket, standing up.

“Who’s there?” Castiel asks uncertain, approaching a blueberry bush cautiously.

As a reply he hears only some rustling and a pitiful squeak.  With his curiosity piqued the boy grabs lower branches of the bush and parts them slowly.

“Oh.”  Castiel gasps and blinks confused as he stares at the ground before him.

 

To be continued...

**Question:  So, what do you think Cas found?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

“Hey, where did you come from? Don’t be afraid.” Castiel squats in front of the bush, reaching his hand out to the tiny creature. A small, probably only a few weeks old black kitten, with only one white mark on its chest crawls out from under the branches towards the boy’s hand.  A wet and tiny pink nose gingerly touches and sniffs the hand. No one knows what the kitten finds so delightful but it emits an excited meow and rubs its head against Castiel’s  palm.

“Aaw, you are so adorable,” Castiel laughs and picks up the kitten. “Do you want to be my friend?”

The kitten meows its agreement.

“Very well.  We will be the best friends from now on,” Castiel assures the feline.  “Let’s go home.  Mommy will be happy to see you too. Do you have a name?”

Castiel keeps babbling merrily, hugging the kitten while walking fast to his small but cozy hut to share his excitement and introduce the new friend to his mother.  As to the kitten, it simply keeps purring loud and nibbling at the boy’s earlobe. 

Seems like two lonesome souls have found each other, when they needed it the most.

* * *

“Mommy!”

Mildred instantly knows that something good has happened to her child when she hears Castiel’s happy voice.

“Yes, darling? What happ...” She stops in the doorway when she sees her son and their new family member.  “Oh...”

“I found him in bushes when I was feeding fish.” Castiel runs inside the hut and rushes to the corner to grab a jug of milk and a plate.  “He can stay with us, can’t he? Please mommy, he wants to be my friend. He told me so.” The boy stops his fussing and stares at his mother pleadingly.

“Of course he can.” Mildred smiles, looking at the black kitten sitting on her son’s shoulder. She can see the small but obvious aura the tiny feline radiates.  “Congratulations, darling. You have found your familiar.”

Castiel gasps. A familiar? His own familiar? This is amazing and unbelievable. His wish to have a true friend has come true so soon.

“My familiar,” Castiel whispers in awe.  “Are you really my familiar?” He asks the kitten.

He gets a tiny, squeaky meow in reply.

Castiel’s eyes water and he hugs the kitten tightly. 

“Thank you for coming to me. I promise to love you and protect you.” He kisses the kitten’s forehead. “Now, drink the milk, you must be hungry.”

He puts the kitten on the table and pours the milk into the plate. The kitten purrs and starts to drink it hungrily.

“Have you thought of the name, dear?” Mildred caresses the boy’s head.  “He needs a good name.”

“I like one name. Remember when you were telling me a story of two heroes who fought each other?” Castiel turns to his mother.

“Of course,” Mildred nods, recalling the time she was telling her son the tale of Achilles’ and Hector’s fight.  “Which one are you thinking about?”

“I like Hector better.”

“And why?” Mildred smiles at him, already knowing the answer.

“Because Hector was protecting his people and he knew he would die but still went and fought with Achilles. He was not a coward. He is my hero and I think Hector will be a good name for him.” Castiel throws a brief glance at the kitten, which is standing in the plate with his front legs and is covered in milk.  He looks so funny that Castiel and Mildred both laugh.

“I’m proud of you, dear. You are a good boy, kind hearted and noble.  Your familiar is a baby yet but that is not a problem, you will grow up together and learn a lot of things. He will be an amazing protector and helper.” Mildred scratches the kitten behind his ear, making him purr even louder.  Tell him his name and ask if he likes it.”

“Kitty,” Castiel calls the kitten. “Your name shall be Hector. Do you like it?”

The kitten stops slurping the milk and turns his head towards the boy. The feline’s  eyes flash with a faint green light and he meows loud.

“Wow!” Mildred laughs heartily. “That’s what I call an enthusiastic agreement!”

“He liked it,” Castiel squeals, happy that his chosen name is acceptable to his new friend.

“Yes, darling. I don’t have to remind you that you must take a good care of him, do I?” Mildred asks gently.

“No, I know what I must do. And I promise Hector will be happy with me,” Castiel states confidently. He wants  to add something else when they hear a flapping sound and turn towards the window.

Offa flies inside the hut and lands on the table right in front of the kitten.  His small black eyes contemplate their new family member intently.

Castiel wants to pick up the kitten, instinctively trying to protect it but Mildred raises her hand, gesturing for her son not to move. 

“Shh,” she whispers.  “Wait and watch.”

Castiel obeys and they both stare at the scene before them.

Offa makes a soft inquiring sound back in his throat, as if asking the kitten who he is.  Hector responds with a squeaky moew.  The raven croaks once and hops closer to the plate, to which the kitten answers with a long meow, turning into a purr afterwards.  Everything ends with both of them drinking the milk from the plate together.

“Mommy, what happened?” Castiel turns to Mildred with his blue eyes wide open.

“Offa and Hector just became friends,” Mildred explains.  “Offa asked him who he was and Hector told him he was your familiar. Then Offa asked if he could have some milk and Hector offered it to him.”

“Wow! You know their language. Can you teach me? I want to learn it!” Castiel jumps up and down excited.

“You will have to learn a lot of things, Castiel. Not only their language. And we will begin when you turn seven years old.”

“What will I do before then?” Castiel asks a bit saddened that he has to wait.

“Before then you need to strengthen your bond with Hector. Teach him what you know and show him the places where he can go safely and which ones to avoid. Talk to him a lot, spend most of your time with him. Make him feel that you love and care about him.” Mildred picks up Hector, placing him into her son’s hands.

“Yes, mommy. I shall do so. Hector will not regret coming to me.” Castiel hugs the kitten. 

“I believe you, darling,” Mildred nods.  “Now, go. Show him what you do every day. He is our family member now and he must know what we do and how we live. Go on, show and teach him.”

“Yes, mommy. Let’s go, Hector. I must show you so many things!” Castiel runs towards the door.  “Let’s start with our old apple tree. You will like it, I promise!”

Mildred can still hear her son’s excited squeals and the kitten’s enthusiastic meows from outside when she sits down at the table. Offa’s gone too, to keep an eye on them just in case.

The witch smiles. Her beautiful face relaxes and eyes close. She knows that her son will be well protected. Hector may be a tiny kitten now, but when he grows up he will turn in to one of the most powerful and wise familiars, which is very rare nowadays.  The spirits of the grove must really love her son if they sent such amazing protector for Castiel.

“Thank you. I owe you an offering, which I shall bring after the midnight,” Mildred murmurs without opening her eyes.

As a response a faint breeze blows, bringing a distant jingling of bells from the grove.

 

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi guys,**

**Make sure you read the note I added at the end of the chapter.**

 

**Chapter 8**

It’s barely past midnight when Mildred wakes up with a start. Her heart is pounding fast and loud in her chest and ears are ringing.  Her white cotton nightgown is drenched in cold sweat.  The witch takes a shuddering, long breath, wiping at her forehead.  Offa, which is sleeping  on a small shelf above her headboard makes a questioning, worried sound.

“It’s alright, dear. I’m alright. Go to sleep.” Mildred assures the bird. She quickly tosses the blanket away and gets up. 

It’s not dark inside the hut as the moonlight pouring  from a small window  illuminates it well enough but Mildred decides to light up a candle.  Pleasant scent of beeswax fills the room and the witch inhales it deeply. She carefully approaches Castiel’s tiny bed and stares down at her sleeping son. The boy is smiling in his sleep with his fluffy  familiar curled up on his chest, purring gently.  Mildred’s heart flutters at the lovely sight. A few moments later she returns to the table and sits down, with a frown on her face.

“Mother moon,  tell me the secrets that are hidden in the night, buried deep in your bottomless cauldron of dreams,  lift the hem of your cape gilded with brilliance of stars and grant me, your unworthy servant  with the truthful answer to this burning question.” Mildred stops murmuring her prayer, reaching out to take a small white bag with fortune telling stones in it.  She shakes the bag and pulls out three stones randomly.  Round pieces of pink quartz with different symbols on them spread on the wooden table  with a small rattling sound, giving Mildred the answer she desperately needs to know.

The witch stares at the stones for a long time, without uttering a sound. She reacts only when the candle starts to flicker, a clear sign that soon it will fade out. 

Mildred rubs at her temples. The answer she has received is alarming but she can’t disobey the will of deities.  It is already written in the book of fate.

“May it be so then,” the witch whispers. “I shall do as you have ordered.  You have already decided what’s to come and I can not change it.  We shall start from tomorrow.” Mildred gets up, quietly going back to her bed. 

The candle at the table sheds its last yellow tear before fading out and sending the hut  in to gloomy, semi-darkness.

* * *

Next morning after the whole family has their breakfast and that includes Hector falling into a bowl of milk and making Castiel laugh hysterically, Mildred decides that it’s time to have a serious talk with her son.

“Darling, remember when I told you I would teach you all what I know when you would turn seven?” She begins carefully.

“Of course,” Castiel nods, feeding his portion of porridge to Hector, which licks the spoon with great pleasure.

“Things have changed and I’m afraid we need to start much earlier.” Mildred caresses the boy’s head, combing his soft brown curls with her fingers.

“That’s alright, mommy.  When will you start teaching me?” Castiel beams at her with his bright, innocent smile.

“After we clean the table and wash the plates.”

“Hector, did you hear it? We will learn magic tricks!” The boy claps his hands joyfully. The  kitten simply squeaks his agreement.

After it’s done they sit down at the table once again.  Castiel is fidgeting with Hector in his lap, waiting for his mother to start talking.

“What is that?” The boy asks, looking at his mother who is searching for something in an oak chest standing in one of the corners.

Mildred returns to the table, holding what looks like a book with a red leather cover.  It has a beautiful tree, stretching its long branches engraved on it.

“This, my darling is my book. Every witch has a book  including all spells, incantations, rituals and prayers  which they know.  You will find everything that you may need written down in here.  Remember, if anything happens,  you must save two things: your familiar and this book.  Nothing else matters. “ Mildred hands her book to her son, who is listening to her words with blue eyes wide open and an awed expression on his face.

“I promise, I will keep them safe.  Bad people will not harm Hector or take the book.  I will protect them.” Castiel states proudly, puffing out his chest.

“I know, sweetheart,” Mildred laughs at the sight. “You are a good and very brave boy.”

Suddenly her face turns serious and it’s noticed instantly.

“Did something happen, mommy?” Castiel asks worriedly.

“No, dear. All is well.  I just...I just remembered something,” she murmurs quietly.

“What is it? Tell me.” Castiel inquires impatiently.

“There is something, that’s not completely included in this book,” the woman says cryptically.

“I don’t understand,” Castiel says confused.

“It’s called  ‘The Valley of Shadows’. The ritual, how it should be done is written in the book but nothing will come out of it if you aren’t  gifted.”

“So , it means I cannot perform it?” Castiel’s face saddens.

“Not unless I hand it over to you.” Mildred smiles at him.

“Can you do that?” The boy almost jumps from his seat.

“Of course, I can.  You are my son,  magic is in your blood. But you must be willing to accept it.” Mildred explains.

“I want to know everything that you know and can do. I want to be as good and kind as you are, mommy,” Castiel finally jumps from his seat and hugs the woman.

“And you will, dear. You will be very powerful but kind, empathetic and strong.” Mildred kisses the top of his head.

“Can I have the gift now, please?” Castiel breaks their embrace.

Mildred smiles. Her son is too good for this world. Castiel is too clever for his age: he already knows how to read and write in two languages, thanks to his mother.

“Alright,” she agrees. “But before we do that I must explain what you can and can’t do with it. There are rules which can not be broken.  Do you want to hear about them?”

“Yes, yes!” 

“Very well.  The first thing you need to know is that The Valley of Shadows is a different realm.  Time and space do not exist there.  A gifted witch can enter this realm and bring anything or anyone from there into our world.  And now here is a tricky part: you can bring only three living creatures from there.  As to inanimate objects there are no limits. Do you have any questions before I continue? ”

“Is it scary to go there?” Castiel asks in a small voice.

“Your first time can be scary.  There are guards, protectors of the realm, the creatures with looks so intimidating that only one glance at them can turn your blood into ice. When you meet them they ask for a price for passage.  You need to cut your left palm and draw out some blood, letting it drip on the ground.  They adore its scent and taste.   If you do so, they will let you pass through the gate and return with whatever or whoever you decide to bring.With time and experience you will get used to it.”

“Can they follow me into our world?”

Castiel’s question sends Mildred deep in thoughts.  She has never heard of such thing, as there have been no cases.

“Honestly? I do not know.  It has never happened before. But I’m sure if you follow the rules you will be safe.” She squeezes her son’s hand reassuringly.

“Alright, mommy. I will remember everything you told me.” The boy states eagerly.

“There is one last rule, Castiel,” Mildred continues.

“One more?  What is it?”

“Before you bring someone or something from there always ask the stones. If they give you permission then go ahead, but if their answer is no, do not even think about it.  Remember this is very important, darling. There will be consequences if you break the rule. Do you understand me?”

Castiel nods quietly.  He knows that something very bad will happen if he disobeys.  And he does not want it. 

“Very well then. This is all you need to know about the Shadow realm.  The ritual and one very important item  which is needed  for transferring the objects from the other world into ours you can find in my book. Now, are you ready to receive my gift?”

“Yes, mommy.” Castiel nods once again.

“Put Hector on the floor, let him play with Offa. Then hold both of my hands and look into my eyes. Do not avert your gaze. You will feel a little dizzy but that’s alright. No need to worry.  I will let go of your hands when it’s done. “ Mildred instructs her son.

Castiel does as his mother asks and after releasing Hector from his lap reaches his hands towards Mildred.

“I’m  ready, mommy!”

   

To be continued...

 

 **NOTE:**    **So, starting from today I decided that as a small gesture of my gratitude towards my readers who leave comments I will promote their  tumblr/twitter/AO3 (which one you want) on my tumblr blog.**

**How it works? It’s really simple.  When you write your comment (and by this I don’t mean a comment  of  ten miles in length.  A simple “I liked it”,  “very interesting” or other short phrases are more than welcome,  as long as they express your feelings about the chapter)  also, add your blog name/ link  which you want me to promote.  I have quite a lot of followers on tumblr and I’m sure it would get you new followers/readers too.  Good luck and thank you, lovelies <3 **

  

 

 

 

  

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Author’s note:  As you may already know English is my third language. All mistakes are mine.**

**Also,  read the note at the end.**

 

**Chapter 9**

Like Mildred has told him Castiel feels slightly lightheaded. It’s like he’s drowning in the depth of his mother’s eyes. He hears distant and quiet whispers of thousands voices. They are rustling just like autumn leaves tossed in the air by a naughty wind.  Warmth and tingling sensations start to enter and spread through his little body and Castiel welcomes it. It’s comforting, soothing and envelops the boy completely. It’s like being wrapped up in a fluffy, golden cloud and  Castiel feels his eyes getting heavy. His mother’s quiet prayer sounds like a sweet lullaby to his ears.  He almost closes his eyes and falls asleep when Mildred speaks:

“It’s done.”

Castiel sobers up instantly. It’s like he’d been under a spell and it’s broken.  He feels different in his mind. He can feel this new knowledge growing roots into his soul and core. Castiel maybe a little boy but he fully realizes the responsibility and the weight of this newly received gift. He looks around their small hut, as if seeing it for the first time.  Hector and Offa stop playing on the floor and stare back at him. Castiel stays silent for a minute but then smiles back at them, earning a low croak and excited meow from the raven and the kitten.

“Darling, how are you feeling?” Mildred asks him a bit concerned. 

“I’m fine, mommy. It’s like I had to read ten books at once.” Castiel grins at her.  Thank gods he has not lost his mind from such an overwhelming knowledge dumped on him at once.

Mildred lets out a shuddering breath.  “You had me worried for a minute, sweetheart.”

“Why, mommy?”

“I don’t know. You looked different.  It was like...” Mildred stops, trying to find right words.

“Like I had just returned from the Shadow Realm?” Castiel looks at her.

The witch’s breath hitches.  How did he know? Did she transfer telepathic abilities too together with the gift?

“Yes, dear.  You had a very thoughtful and might I say otherworldly expression on your face.”

“I heard voices. There were a lot of voices talking to me,” Castiel informs her. “They were all asking me to free them. Some of them sounded friendly but there were a few that I did not like. They threatened and told  me they would do bad things to me if I did not listen.”

Mildred chews on her lip. She just hopes that it was just a curtain pulled aside, so Castiel could have taken a peek at the other realm and that it doesn’t mean anything more than that.

“Have no fear, sweetheart.  Forget about them and pay no attention to their words.  They can’t harm you.”  The witch hugs her son.  “How about I bake a blueberry pie and after we eat it I will teach you how to cast and read the stones?”

“Yes!” Castiel shouts merrily. “I would like that, mommy!”

“Very well, then. I will give you a small basket so you can take it and bring fresh blueberries. Would you do that for me, dear?” Mildred ruffles her son’s soft curls.

“Of course, mommy.” Castiel wraps his thin arms around her neck, planting a kiss on his mother’s cheek.

“Good boy.”

“May I take Hector with me? He really likes playing hide and seek in the tall grass behind our hut.” The boy swallows, hoping for a positive reply.

“Of course, dear.  Hector is your familiar and he should always be with you.” Mildred nods approvingly.  “But take Offa too, so he can watch over you.”

“Yes, mommy. Give me the basket. Hector, did you hear  it? We will eat a blueberry pie!” Castiel jumps off Mildred’s lap and grabs the kitten, hugging him to his chest.

“Here, take this with you.” Mildred is already in the kitchen corner, choosing a neat, small basket for her son.  “Don’t go too far and be careful, dear.”

Castiel runs through the door, waving the basket above his head like a flag, excited Hector chasing right after him.

Mildred can’t help but smile and the merry sight, how nonchalant and happy Castiel seems. 

“You know what to do,” the witch tells her raven before sending him after her son and the kitten.

Offa rubs his head against her cheek affectionately before flying out of the window.

* * *

Next ten days Mildred and Castiel mostly spend around the table. The witch is teaching him about different herbs and potions. Surprisingly, Castiel is a very fast learner. It took him only one day to learn how to cast stones and read their meanings. Mildred assumes he has a strong connection to the spirits of the grove and they are helping her son, developing his learning and perceiving skills. 

“If you forget something for now it’s not a big problem, dear. You can find all of it written in my book but a powerful witch must know everything by heart. There will be moments when there’s no time for searching in the book, when you must act immediately to save a life. This is why you should remember all the spells, rituals, mixtures and potions by heart, so you don’t lose precious minutes,”  Mildred explains patiently.

“I understand. ”

“Is there anything that you have liked the most so far  ?” Mildred asks curiously. There definitely should be something.

“Yes, mommy. I like reading the stones and learning about herbs. What they’re good for and what illness they can cure. I think it will help me a lot in the future.” Castiel draws abstract figures on the table’s surface.

“Indeed very wise answer,” Mildred smiles at him. “Helping those in need is the best  a witch can do. I love you and  I am so proud of you, Castiel. Never forget that.” Mildred takes the boy’s hand, kissing his knuckles softly.

“I love you too, mommy. You are the best and you make me happy.” Castiel beams at her. His blue eyes shine with a lot of love and adoration.

“Mommy, may I ask you something?” he ask suddenly.

“Of course, dear.”

“Do you have a wish that you would like to come true?”Castiel’s face turns serious.

“Yes. For you to be happy.  I want to see you grow up a kind, wise and fair-minded.  Sometimes we need to dig deeper before we see the truth. Never make rushed decisions, for it may cause irreparable errors.”  

Castiel nods his agreement.  “I promise, mommy. But  do you have a wish for yourself? Maybe there is something you always wanted?”

Mildred taps her fingers on the table, lean fingers moving in fast staccatos.  A long time has passed since then and she should probably forget about it as it probably sounds very childish but...

“Mommy?” Castiel’s voice  draws her out of distant memories.  “I know you were thinking about it. Please tell me.”

“It’s nothing important, darling,” Mildred blushes slightly, lowering her gaze.

“Please?” Castiel pleads.

 “Alright,” Mildred sighs.  “Before you were born and when your father seemed to be a decent man, he had promised me to build a small flower garden with the most beautiful roses, lilies, peonies  and other alluring flowers that would bloom and spread their breath-taking scents  for many years.  Unfortunately this promise, just like his others had crashed like a sand castle. I had buried this dream deep inside me, refusing to let it resurface as I knew it would never become true.”

There is a stretched silence in the room,  disturbed only by sleeping Hector’s purrs. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Castiel about it? The boy is going through so much at the moment  and an extra burden was not needed? Before Mildred sinks deeper into  self guilt, Castiel breaks the silence:

“I will build it for you, mommy.  Please don’t cry.”

Mildred gasps. She’d never noticed when tears had started to roll.

“I’m sorry, dear.  I did not mean to upset you.” She smiles through her tears, quickly wiping them afterwards.

“I think you will like it. It will have many flowers. Only the most beautiful ones, just like you, mommy. I don’t like when you cry. I want you to be happy and I think you will smile a lot when you look at the garden,” Castiel chatters, already picturing the scenery in his mind.

Mildred laughs relieved. Something painful that has been buried and locked deep inside her has just turned precious and sweet. How was this even possible?

The witch knows that her son will keep his word and will make her dream come true.

Sooner or later.

* * *

Next morning the ground shakes and groans under wrathful, howling wind and heavy, merciless rain drops. It’s like the skies above are punishing humankind for its sins, trying to erase it from existence.

It’s warm in the hut despite the godsawful weather outside.  Castiel, Hector and Offa are entertaining themselves at the table. The boy is drawing with a piece of coal on a wooden board, showing his work to two familiars, earning approving croaks and meows.  Mildred is sitting on her bed, folding a knitted cardigan for her son when there is a loud bang on the door.

The witch starts, a deep frown appearing on her face. Castiel throws  a confused look at his mother. 

“It’s alright, dear. I will check. Stay there.” Mildred stands up, moving towards the door. 

A sinking feeling sets into her stomach as soon as she opens it:

The town’s butcher  Azazel  together with five men are standing in the pouring rain, with ominous and gloomy looks on their faces. Their clothes are soaking wet, water running down in cascades but they don’t seem to notice it.

“You are coming with us,” Azazel declares, his strict tone clearly indicating that Mildred is not to argue.  

 

To be continued...

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	10. Chapter 10

Hi guys! Sorry for the long wait. I am in the middle of the visa applying process and life is so crazy I don’t even have time to relax.

About this chapter.  I had to make a decision: either a short/divided chapter or you’d have to wait till June.  I thought short chapter would be better.

Anyway, here is the newest chapter and as to the the next one it won’t be up before June 8.

 

**Chapter 10**

 

Fear, deep and overwhelming is what Mildred feels while looking at those soulless eyes, but not for herself. Castiel is the reason of her worries.  What do these men want from her small family? Why can’t they leave them alone and let them live in quiet?

“Gentlemen, what is the matter? May I know the reason of your visit?” Mildred tries to conceal tremor in her voice.

“You shall come with us and help with misfortune that has fallen upon my house!” Azazel’s frown deepens, giving him more intimidating, dreadful look.

“What misfortune?” Mildred shifts her gaze from one man to the other but they don't respond.

“You are a witch , you tell me!” Azazel raises his voice, making the woman flinch.

“I...” Mildred begins when she hears footsteps behind her back.

“Mommy?” Castiel stands there with Hector in his arms. He sounds scared and Mildred wants to protect him with all her might.

“It’s alright, darling. Go back to drawing.” Her voice and smile are strained.  She has a feeling that it won’t end so easily.

“Aha, so little hell spawn is here too,” Azazel smirks, looking at the boy with unhidden loathing. 

Mildred clenches her fists, ready to punch the bastard in the face for insulting her son, when one of Azazel’s companions speaks:

“The rain is getting worse. We should hurry.”

Thunder and lightning confirm the man’s  words and Azazel turns to face Mildred again.  No wonder no one likes him in the town because of his unpredictable and dangerous nature.  Locals are afraid of him but fear  brings forth respect and they prefer to be on good terms with Azazel  rather than face his wrath, as he is a  very influential man.

“You have two minutes to gather the necessary items for your witchcraft and come with us or...” Azazel leans forward, hissing into Mildred’s ear:

“You will regret the day your brat was born.”

Mildred’s heart skips a beat, knowing well that Azazel will keep his word if she disobeys.  She has a few seconds to collect herself before finding a response to the uninvited visitor’s threat.

“My  lord, no need to threaten us. I never said I would not help you. Just give me a minute and I will do my best to assist you.”

Azazel grunts something incomprehensible before turning  to Mildred with his back.

“Be quick, woman. We do not have all day.”

With these words he and his companions walk out of the door despite the heavy rain.  As soon as they are out Mildred turns to Castiel who has never left his mother’s side.

“Darling, listen to me carefully now.  Take a basket and put bread, cheese, meat and your favorite fruits in it.  If I do not return in one hour put this cardigan on and  grab Hector, Offa and my book.” 

“Why? Why do you want me to do it?” Castiel asks afraid. His heart tells him that something may be very wrong.

“If I don’t return in one hour – “ Mildred pauses, swallowing hard the sickening feeling of fear that makes her nauseous.  “- you run.”

“I run? Where? And what about you?” Castiel blinks.  “Don’t go, mommy. I don’t like those men.” He whimpers, clutching at his mother’s dress.

“It will be alright, dear.  I will find you later. But like I said if I don’t  return in one hour you should leave immediately and go to uncle Robert.  You remember where he lives, don’t you? He will protect you and I will join you later.” Mildred hugs the boy, wishing these men had never appeared at their doorsteps.

Castiel nods.  Maybe everything will be alright and he worries in vain?

Mildred goes to the table and takes the sand glass in her hands.

“Castiel, when the last grain of sand hits the bottom  and I am not here, you run!” She tells her son and turns the sand glass.

The boy watches the grains of sand sipping through the narrow passage in utter silence.  Even Hector and Offa don’t make any sounds, as if feeling approaching evil.

Mildred takes the bag of fortune telling stones, putting them into her pocket.  She tries to convince herself that there is no reason to worry but her senses are screaming at her.

 “Remember that mommy loves you, dear.  I love you more than anything in this world,” she tries hard not to cry as she hugs her child.

“I love you too, mommy. Please come back.” Castiel sniffs in her neck.  “I don’t want to go.”

“I know, sweetheart.  I don’t want it either.” Mildred kisses her boy’s cheeks, murmuring a quiet prayer to the spirits for Castiel’s protection.

Offa makes an inquiring sound to which Mildred responds with a slight shake of her head.

“No, my dearest friend. Stay here with him. He may need your help.”

Offa looks saddened and his wings sag but he obeys his mistress and lands on Castiel’s shoulder.  Mildred laces up her cloak and throws her gaze at her child and animals.

“I love you,” she whispers. “I love all of you so much.”

Mildred knows that if she doesn’t walk out right now she will break down in tears and it will cause fury of already angry men who are waiting for her outside.

So, to prevent any more unnecessary troubles she turns around and walks out in the pouring rain with quick steps.

Back in the hut Castiel, Offa and Hector are watching the door in silent terror as if it had turned into a monster and devoured the mistress of the cabin.

Somewhere in the distance a lonesome owl weeps and damns the skies above.

 

To be continued...

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Hi guys.  I really apologize for the long wait but I am getting married and the wedding is on October 5 and my life has never been as crazy as it is right now. I am under temendous stress from all the planning and orginizing things. 

Anyway, I found time to write this chapter and I better update before my readers murder me heheh.

Enjoy the chapter!

P.S  chapters will be a bit short till I have more time on my hands.

**Chapter 11**

The way to Azazel’s house is pure hell.  Mildred stumbles and falls at least three times, landing in puddles full of muddy water. Her lovely blue dress  with embroidered yellow sunflowers  on it is stained and they are as black as Azazel’s soul.  Mildred is scared but the reason of her worries is left at a small hut, hugging two animals and desperately waiting for his mother’s return.

Azazel is no lord but his house is big and luxurious compared to locals’ miserable looking huts.  It’s clean and spacious, but this is not the first thing that Mildred notices when entering it.

The walls reek of desperation. The air in the house is heavy of pain, loneliness and fear.  All her senses tell Mildred to run away and never look back but she has to be strong for Castiel’s sake. 

“Oh , I see you brought the witch, father?”  A child’s surprisingly deep and malicious voice asks.

Mildred starts when a tall boy emerges from the shadows, walking towards them with a lopsided smirk. His eyes are full of reasonless hostility and hatred.

“How is your freak and his ugly horse? I hope he will remember the power of my fist for a long time.”   Alastair for it’s him declares proudly.  Azazel’s companions share his excitement with  stifled giggles, though the butcher does not seem entertained.  No one has ever seen him laughing, or crack a smile.

Mildred has a thick lump stuck in her throat and tears of frustration are threatening to break the dam but she forces herself to stay calm and not pay attention to the devil spawn in front of her.

“Enough,” Azazel announces suddenly and all the laughing subsides.  “Alastair, leave us.” he turns to his son.

“But...” the boy begins simply to be cut off by his father.

“I said LEAVE US!” Azazel growls, his yellowish eyes almost flash thunder and lightning.

“Fine. But don’t forget to cleanse the house after she’s gone. It stinks here.” Alastair laughs before turning around and storming out of the room.

 After his son is out of their sight Azazel turns to Mildred, frowning deeply at her. It gives goosebumps to the woman but she does not show any signs of discomfort.

“The reason why you’re here is this,” Azazel begins.  “Two days ago my wife Eileen disappeared. We searched for her everywhere but to no avail.  We looked for her in the woods, thinking she was eaten by wild beasts and we could find at least any trace of her. She was not there.  Then we searched in waters but still nothing.  You are a witch and you should be able to find out what happened. If she’s alive you must bring her back to this house. Is everything clear?” Azazel’s voice sounds as cold as a cemetery wind.

“What will happen to her after her return?” Mildred asks quietly, dreading the answer she’s about to hear.

“That is not your concern.” The butcher responds sternly.  “Do your job and begin now. I do not have all day. Do you understand me, woman?”

Mildred nods briefly, slightly shivering in her wet clothes.  Something tells her that Eileen is alive and she has a serious reason not to return to this house.  

“May I ask for a table and a chair, my lord?” Mildred asks timidly.

Azazel nods and gestures at the black table with an oil lamp on it set in the corner of the room. 

Mildred takes a seat and removes her cloak, folding it neatly on her lap. Then she pulls out the fortune telling stones and glances at the three men who surround her like a hoard of voltures.

The witch murmurs a short prayer before casting the stones. They clatter on the table, spreading into different directions.    

A deafening silence falls while Mildred is staring down at the stones with unreadable facial expression.  The only sound in the house is scratching and squeaking a little mouse makes somewhere deep in the walls.

“Well?” Azazel breaks the silence, his patience vanishing quickly.  “What do you see?”

 Mildred exhales slowly and gathers the stones, putting them back into the small bag she carries with her.

“My lord, your wife is alive,” she says with a raspy voice.

Cheers erupt from Azazel’s companions, congratulating him by slapping on his shoulder. But this does not seem to satisfy the host of the house.

“Where is she and why is she not coming back?” he demands to know.

“She has left the village. And...” Mildred hesitates.

“And what?” Azazel’s asks harshly.

“She will not be coming back.”

“What?” Azazel gapes at her. This is the first real expression Mildred has seen on his face so far. “What do you mean by that? What is the reason?”

Mildred wipes water droplets and sweat off her forrehead, biting her bottom lip hard.  She does not know how to say this.

“ANSWER ME!” Azazel roars, banging his fist on the table, almost knocking over the lamp. 

Mildred jumps off her seat, making a few steps back. She’s ready to flee any second now.

“If you do not answer me in three seconds, I swear...” Azazel threatens but the witch interrupts him.

“She will not be coming back and I think you know the reason why, my lord. This house is full of pain and her tears.  She was not loved and respected here.  Her back still carries the marks of your rage. Even her son humiliated and disrespected her every day. Tell me,  my lord, is there a single reason why she should come back?” Mildred is clutching her cloak to her chest, retreating towards the door.

“How dare you!” Azazel hisses like a serpent, ready to attack its prey.  “What horrible lies are coming out of your filthy mouth?”

“My stones never lie!” Mildred stares at him fearless straight in the eyes.

“You,” Azazel points at her with his finger. “Will sit down at the table right this instant, read your hellish prayers, cast a spell or two and drag her back to the house.”

Mildred shakes her head.  It goes against her morals.

“I’m afraid I can not do that, my lord. If I do so, you will end her life and I will be responsible for it, making me carry this sin all my life.”

“Is this your final decision?” Azazel asks dangerously calmly.

Mildred swallows hard before nodding slowly.  She’s just signed her death sentence.

“Very well then,” Azazel squints his eyes. “I did not know that you were such an idiot”. Then he turns to those two men, standng behind him, giving a brief order:

“Kill them!”  

All hair on Mildred’s body stands on its end when she hears the sounds of drawn out daggers.  But all thoughts leave her head when they step towards her and the witch begins to run for her life with a startled shout.

As she runs through the darkness with the two blood-thirsty animals hot on her heels there is one name Mildred keeps repeating to her feverishly.

_Castiel._

She must protect her boy and her only wish is that she could speed up the time, so the sandglass that she has left with Castiel  back at their hut shows the boy that it is time to leave.

 

To be continued...

 

**Please leave a small comment. You'd give me huge boost of motivation.**

 

P.S  I know I said I was closing the second part with chapter 10 but the story demands otherwise. And I guess I will be finishing part 2 with the next chapter 1000000000%. And I guess that’s gonna be the very emotional chapter where we will see a lot of things.  Including one of my favorite things  - Offa being such a BAMF!!!

 


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